Conventioneers
by Caroline
Summary: [MJ] Michael and Jan get into some dangerous territory at the convention.


TITLE: Conventioneers  
AUTHOR: Caroline  
SPOILERS: "The Convention" (3x02)  
RATING: M

* * *

_"Hey Josh? Why don't you come up to my room for a few minutes so we can discuss the schedule for tomorrow."_

_"Why don't we just discuss it over breakfast tomorrow."_

_"Just a quick drink?"_

Jan shook her head at herself and flung her purse onto her hotel room bed angrily. Why the hell had she even done that? She invited Josh Porter, who she _knew _was married -- the gold band on his left ring finger gave that away -- back up to her room. She knew she didn't have a shot. Hell, she wasn't even _interested _in Josh Porter. The tan, blue-eyed guys never really did anything for her anyway. No, she was attracted to men with hazel-ish/green-ish eyes, full lips, dark hair... and a rather obnoxious personality.

She should've sent someone else to this convention; made Sherry go in her place or something. She had plenty of sick days saved up, it would've been the perfect time to fake a serious illness. But no. Her rationale behind going was that, if she did play sick, she knew Michael would drop absolutely everything and rush to New York just to make sure she wasn't dying. She figured he'd probably bring along a lifetime supply of chicken soup, too.

It had really happened. Michael Scott had driven her unmistakably, certifiably, irrevocably insane. There was no more hope for her. He'd driven her so insane, in fact, that she asked a co-worker whom she had no physical interest in up to her room just to see if she could piss Michael off... or make him just a little jealous.

Jan closed her eyes and reached for her purse, contemplating going back downstairs for a cigarette. She either needed mass amounts of nicotine, or alcohol. At the moment, she wasn't sure what she'd choose.

* * *

_"What party?"_

_"The party I'm having tonight in room 308. Obviously you are invited." _

"Michael, Jim and Josh are... in meetings. And I am... in and out of meetings. I-I can't stay on top of you 24/7."

That's what she said. That was what she honest-to-God said. And she knew full-well just where his mind would go. Jan was torturing him. Trying to get him back for choosing Carol over her. Filling his head with innuendo, telling him she underestimated him, looking at him longingly across the table at mealtime. Did she think he was just going to snap and take back his choice?

No siree. Carol didn't play mind games, so Carol it was. Except... he did kinda miss Jan. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that. Not even Jan herself. And he especially missed her at this convention... which was odd, because Jan was right here. With him. Not like when they were two-and-a-half hours apart normally, at work. Jan was physically here... just a few rooms down the hall... and he missed her like crazy. Maybe it was a little harsh of him to lay down those ground rules.

And why didn't she come to his party? She wasn't having meetings during the party, so what was the big deal? He looked around the room and realized his party was kinda lame, anyway. One person came, and left within a span of ten seconds. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to stock up on all that alcohol. But... he at least had had to get the stuff to make Cosmos. That was Jan's signature drink. He figured if one thing could lure her up to his party, it would be a Cosmopolitan.

Not that he needed her in his room necessarily, anyway. Nope. He was dating Carol... the woman who didn't play mind games with him, who didn't tell him not to smell her, who didn't make him call her once in the morning and once at night... who didn't actually go out with him all that often. Carol was the safe choice, obviously. She wouldn't constantly confuse him, or tick him off when she denied what was between them... and she most definitely wouldn't drive him insane thinking about her all the time

Maybe he needed to get out of his room for awhile.

* * *

Michael found himself in the hotel bar, eyes panning around the room to all the other attendees of the convention. Only a couple people glanced up from their drinks and conversations to notice someone new had entered, and Michael ducked his eyes, making a beeline for one of the empty barstools. He ordered a beer and, on a whim, a Cosmopolitan as well. Music was playing from an old-style jukebox off to one side of the bar -- music that, in Michael's opinion, wasn't nearly as cool as what he'd been playing at his party. It didn't have funky club beats, it had... guitars and pianos and stuff. And a guy singing about how "even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine."

Michael sipped his beer while shaking his head at the song, and smacked his lips when he was done, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the doorway. That was when Jan appeared, and when her eyes met his Michael heard the guy singing something about "you and I collide."

Jan hesitated in the doorway, holding his gaze, and Michael tilted his head at her as the song went on, "don't stop here, I've lost my place."

He gave her a smile and for some reason that seemed to relax her a little bit. She started to approach him, kept her eyes on him. Michael glimpsed quick around the bar and noticed several guys watching her. Jan would always be a head-turner, he figured, and met her gaze again since his eyes were missing the contact with hers. Where was his safe choice Carol when he needed her? Jan was very, very dangerous... but in the very sexiest of ways. Especially when she kept eye contact with him and sauntered up to the bar, sliding smoothly onto the stool. "Michael."

Their shoulders touched, and there was that "you and I collide" line again. He echoed the cool tone she'd used. "Jan." He felt like he was in a scene from some forties movie, especially when Jan pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag before propping her elbow on the bar. It dangled between her fingers, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling, and Michael thought she was hotter than all those old-time movie starlets -- put together. Ingrid Bergman and Lauren Becall and Katharine Hepburn... they all had nothing on Jan Levinson. The woman oozed sex appeal from every pore. It was really, very dangerous.

Michael quirked one eyebrow, tilted his head again, and asked, "Drink?"

Jan narrowed her eyes at him slightly, taking another drag off her cigarette, and blew the smoke off to the side while tapping some of the ashes into the ashtray before her. She was contemplating him the whole time. Michael could practically see the wheels in her head turning. It was dangerous, how well he could read her. He couldn't read Carol like that, and he figured it was safer for him that way. Yeah, he definitely had to stick with Carol.

"Sure," Jan finally responded, and Michael had almost forgotten what he'd asked her. What did she just consent to?

Oh, that's right. He slid the Cosmopolitan toward her and watched her eyebrows flick upward.

"You ordered a Cosmo? Since when do you drink those, Michael?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Since when do you turn one down, Jan?"

Jan furrowed her brows now and picked up the glass, taking a sip while eyeing him through her lashes in an unbearably sexy way.

Michael bit down gently on his lip. "I'm sorry, that made you sound like a drunk."

He was surprised when Jan chuckled into her drink. "It's alright," she told him when she'd set the glass down on the bar again. She tapped on her forgotten cigarette, sending most of it into the ashtray. She stamped it out then, probably deciding she'd had enough, and folded her arms on the bar while she looked over at him. "So what are you doing down here? I thought you were having a party."

"No, I uh... decided that was kinda lame. So, I came down here." He mirrored her position and folded his arms on the bar, looking over at her and taking her in for just a moment. She was still in her professional, Jan-like clothes from earlier... the pressed dress slacks and silky button-down shirt with a sweater tied around her neck. She looked kinda like a teacher. A really hot substitute teacher all the little schoolboys would probably be in love with. Carol never looked like a hot teacher, and Michael decided that was a good thing. "How about you? What are you doing down here? I thought you said you had to worry about a bunch of important meetings or something."

"Well..." She took another sip of her Cosmo. "I don't know that I'd necessarily call them 'important.'"

"They seemed important enough for you to miss my party."

"Michael, you abandoned your _own _party. The guilt trip isn't going to work."

"Alright, fine. Wanna dance?"

Jan, in the midst of another sip, spluttered on her drink again. "I'm not nearly drunk enough for that yet."

"Well, then let's order you another Cosmo!" He started to raise his hand to get the bartender's attention, grinning when Jan slapped his arm down.

He laughed, and Jan laughed, and for a long moment they just smiled at each other. Michael swiveled on his stool, angling his body toward Jan's, and was pleased when she did the same. They each laid an arm on the bar, and for a moment Michael wanted to touch her hand. Until he remembered he was still dating Carol. "So," he said, just because there was nothing better to say.

Jan parroted a "so" right back at him, still looking at him with a soft smile.

A moment of silence passed -- not necessarily awkward, though not entirely comfortable -- in which they just looked at each other, probably both wondering what the hell to say. Michael then took a long pull of his beer and asked, "Wanna talk to me about the schedule for tomorrow?"

"Not really, Michael."

"Oh. Is that something you only share with Josh?"

Jan finished off her Cosmo before looking up at him again with a slow blink. Just how well could she hold her alcohol? Michael had to wonder. "Why do you say that, Michael?"

"Well, I overheard you asking him up to your room to discuss the schedule."

"Jealous?" she queried with a lifted brow, and Michael tilted his head at her. She sounded awfully interested in his answer.

"Do you... want me to be?"

Jan narrowed her eyes slightly at him again, and swiveled back and forth on her stool almost nervously. She looked down at her empty glass. "Maybe I _do_ need another Cosmo."

Michael grinned to himself at her typical avoidance tactics, but obliged and ordered her another drink.

* * *

Three drinks later and Jan was regaling him with the tale of a failed cooking experience. They were still facing each other on their barstools, laughing together... Jan was smiling at him gorgeously and constantly touching his knee for emphasis on whatever she was saying. Every time she did that, too, Michael fought hard to remember what Carol looked like. For some reason though, every time he tried to think of her, she looked exactly like Jan. It was weird... and pretty dangerous.

"So there I am, standing over the stove trying to aim the fire extinguisher at this pan of... I don't even remember what it was anymore, but it somehow caught fire. And I couldn't get the stupid fire extinguisher to work, so I'm freaking out and smoke is getting everywhere and this is when my ex comes through the door."

"Gould?" Michael drained the remainder of his fourth beer and shook his head immediately after, trying to get it to stop spinning. Maybe it was Jan's hand on his knee again that was doing it to him.

"Yes. So the first thing out of his mouth is, 'You didn't try to cook again, did you Jannie?' which... he knows I hate that nickname. So he has to swoop in and take the fire extinguisher away, and he's able to get it to work. Our stove was covered with that stupid foam, and we had to throw out that pan, and even though I was still freaking out the only thing he says to me is, 'Babe, you know you'll never be an ace in the kitchen. Why try? Let's order takeout.'"

Michael blew a raspberry obnoxiously. "What an ass. I would've at least asked if you were okay before I made fun of your culinary retardation."

"He was right, though. Me and cooking just... doesn't work."

"You just need to practice."

"That leads to small kitchen fires, Michael."

They were laughing again, and with her hand still on his knee, Michael was powerless to stop from reaching out and touching hers. He gave her knee a squeeze and grinned at her, and she tilted her head and gave him a darling smile. He hoped she wasn't so drunk she'd make him forget everything tomorrow. "How drunk are you?" he blurted out, still smiling at her.

Jan blinked and gave a lazy smile in response. "Drunk enough to be having a good time."

"Am I really that bad to be around?"

She shook her head and took another sip of her Cosmo, rubbing his knee lightly and smiling when he squeezed her hand. "No. Not really. It's just... with the cameras around, you're so..."

"Awesome?"

She giggled, and Michael feared he'd fall in love with her again just from the sound of it. "I was going to say 'showy'. 'Obnoxious' would work, too."

"So without the cameras... you like me?"

"Without the cameras, Michael... you're not half bad."

"Thanks..." He made a face, half-smiling. "I think." A piano intro then beckoned his attention, and he glanced over his shoulder at the jukebox before looking back at Jan. "Ready to dance?" He held his hand out to her.

Jan smiled and placed her hand in his. "Let's do it."

He started to lead her out onto the small dance floor. "That's what s--"

"If you say 'that's what she said,' Michael, I swear..."

The threat was left dangling, and Michael was more than able to fill in the blanks. "Point taken, sorry."

"Just dance with me."

He pulled her close and couldn't even remember what Carol's last name was. "You got it."

The song playing this time was actually pretty good... and Michael could have sworn he'd heard it before. The opening lyrics sounded familiar: "If I don't say this now, I will surely break..."

His left hand was clasped with Jan's right, resting directly over his heart, and his right hand was on the small of her back, keeping her close. Jan's face was right beside his but their cheeks were not quite touching, and she swayed with him easily... whether from the alcohol or just a natural ability to fit with his rhythm, Michael couldn't be sure. And he always figured Jan would want to lead. But nope. She seemed more than happy to fall in with the pace he was setting, just a bit under-tempo from the music as the singer wailed, "Be my baby, I'll look after you."

Jan was warm against him, and her arm was sliding up from his middle back, to his shoulder... and pretty soon he felt her hand gently tickling the nape of his neck while she drifted closer. Where was that damned 800-pound gorilla in the room? Where were the ground rules?

Their cheeks touched and Michael was suddenly desperate to know, "Are we drunk?"

"I have no idea. How many beers?"

"Four." Michael closed his eyes and turned his face just slightly into Jan's riotous curls. He forgot how great her hair always smelled. Just like that night after Chili's. He spent a great amount of time that night, as they were falling asleep together, with his nose buried in her hair. "How many Cosmo's?"

"Four."

"Is that enough for you?"

"Not typically. You?" Her hand clasped the back of his neck and she seemed to pull him closer.

"Not nearly." Michael wrapped his arm completely around her waist and felt her body molding to his. Carol who?

"So we're not drunk."

"No."

"But we're not exactly sober, either."

"No," he chuckled. "Sober Jan would never dance with me. Sober Jan doesn't dance at all. It's unprofessional."

Her head found a place against his shoulder. "Sober Michael's kind of a boob."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome."

Silence reigned as they danced a little longer, and Michael decided he really liked this song. The singer kept wailing about "I'll look after you" and it wasn't half bad. Especially with Jan curled against him. "So, you like how I look in my fun jeans?"

"Your what?" Jan lifted her head from his shoulder and contemplated him with slightly glassy eyes.

"My fun jeans."

"How are they fun jeans, Michael?" She pressed her cheek against his again.

"Well, because they're not like normal jeans. They're a fun color."

"They're white, Michael. If anything, they're Miami Beach jeans."

"Wow, Jan. Who knew you were so witty? All it takes is four Cosmo's, huh?"

"Apparently so."

When the song was over, they stood still in the middle of the dance floor, not quite releasing each other. Then Jan raised an eyebrow and asked just about the most devastatingly hot thing ever. "Wanna head up to my room?"

"Your r-room?" Michael stammered, trying hard to think of Carol.

"Yeah. I mean, not for..." She trailed off kind of awkwardly, and shook her head. "I brought Travel Scrabble. I was thinking we could play, and... sober up a bit so we're lucid for tomorrow."

"O...kay." He led her off the dance floor and paid their bar tab with his hand on the small of her back the whole time. After four Cosmo's, Jan apparently liked his touch. On their way to the elevators, he slipped an arm around her waist -- telling himself it was just to keep her from stumbling in her tipsy-ish state -- and asked her, "So you brought Travel Scrabble?"

"Mm-hmm."

They got on the elevator and he grinned over at her. "You're such a dork."

Jan glared at him the entire ride up.

* * *

"For crying out loud, Michael, this is not a chess move. It's Scrabble. Will you just lay your letters down, already?"

"Do not rush me, Jan."

Jan sighed and took a sip of the vodka they were now sharing. Somehow their attempt to sober up by playing Scrabble had turned into an excuse for them to drink even _more_... while playing Scrabble. She was feeling pleasantly fuzzy... and Michael's lame jokes were becoming increasingly hilarious with every sip she took. They sat on her hotel room bed, cross-legged and facing each other with the Scrabble board between them. Jan was trying only half-heartedly to keep track of the points they were earning. The vodka, however, was making math an increasingly difficult task.

"A-ha! Eighteen-hundred points for me!" Michael announced, finally laying down his letters to spell out L-O-V-E-L-Y.

Jan quirked an eyebrow and passed him the glass of vodka when he held out his hand for it. "That's the best you can do, Michael? 'Lovely'?"

"Lovely is what you are, Jan," he said down into the glass, taking a gulp. "Your turn."

"Fine. Thank you for that 'E', by the way. I needed that." Jan laid down her own letters, smiling smugly to herself as she used Michael's E to spell out I-R-R-I-T-A-T-E. When she looked up and found him eyeing her quizzically, she shrugged. "It's what you do best, Michael."

"Oooouuuchie," he grumbled, but the smile negated the tone of his voice. "Alright, it's my turn." He laid down his next set of letters, using her A -- B-E-A-U-T-Y.

Jan just rolled her eyes and laid down hers: T-E-A-S-E.

Michael chuckled. "Thanks for the 'S,' Jan." S-E-X-Y was laid down next.

Jan giggled and held out her hand for the glass of vodka. She wasn't nearly drunk enough yet to handle where this game was heading. But, she was tipsy enough to play along. So she perused her available letters, and decided to shock him. With the aid of some of their previous words, she laid down L-I-C-K.

"Jan, you naughty girl!" Michael laughed, clearly enjoying the tightrope they were now walking. Didn't he mention to her earlier that day that he was still dating Carol? Where were those ground rules he'd set?

"Just take your turn, Michael."

So he did, and used her K to spell out K-I-S-S. He looked up at her with a sly smile and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Jan couldn't help but smirk back as she passed him the nearly-empty vodka glass. "Call it wishful thinking," Michael shrugged.

"Mm-hmm." If Michael didn't care about still dating Carol, then neither would Jan. She secretly considered Carol to be 'the other woman' anyway. So she stole the glass back from Michael, drained the remainder of the vodka, and then spelled out S-U-C-K.

Michael's eyes widened. "Whoa, hello! That's what she said! Thanks for that 'U,' Jan." Then Michael, with a daring look in his eyes, held her gaze as he set down F-U-C-K.

"Michael, you can't do that!"

"What's the matter with that, Jan? You don't want it?"

"It's not that I don't..." She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to shake away the fuzziness. "It's not that I don't want 'it,' Michael, I just... you can't do that."

"Well why not? It's fun."

"That may be, but... it's a colloquialism."

"A what now?"

"It's an imitation of informal -- you know what? Nevermind. It's just, it's... inappropriate."

Michael's grin was contagious as he slid a little closer, reaching out to touch her knees. "Only if it's done right, Jan."

"Michael... it's inappropriate for a _Scrabble _board."

"Well, then let's forget the Scrabble board." He shoved the board to the side and scooted closer, their knees now touching. He braced his hands on her thighs as he leaned toward her and Jan had to admit to herself that this aggressive side of him was kind of... well, hot. "Scrabble board's gone. Is 'fuck' still inappropriate, Jan?"

His lips were hovering just inches away, and _man _did he ever know how to crawl right under her skin. "Yes."

"Why?"

"The eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room that you mentioned earlier." She tilted her head and couldn't help but notice their lips were perfectly aligned for kissing. Just one little lean would be all it would take. "Or were you just trying to make me jealous?"

"Did it work?" His lips teased hers and Jan had all she could do not to just lean into him and lay one on him.

"Is that a yes?"

"Did you invite Josh up to your room to make _me _jealous?" He closed his eyes and started to cover her lips with his...

Jan closed her eyes and scooted back, receiving only a feather-light touch of his lips. "I think we're getting into dangerous territory here, Michael."

"I think we got into dangerous territory the moment we came up here, Jan." Emboldened, Michael scooted close again, and when Jan tried to scoot back more, she was at the foot of the bed... and started to tip backwards. Michael had to lunge at her, wrap his arms around her, and pull her back against him to keep her from smacking her head on the floor.

"Thanks," she mumbled into his shirt... and her hands were already busy trying to push him away.

But Michael only let her push him away far enough that he could look at her. "Jan."

"Michael, this is really--"

"Dangerous," he finished for her, gaining her attention once more. "Yeah, I know."

"I'm still your boss, and... you decided to start dating somebody else, and--"

"Somebody else?" Now he released her, and scooted back of his own accord. All the times she rebuffed him, told him there was nothing there... that didn't bother him, but now? Now the implication that they _had _been dating and he spontaneously 'decided' to go with someone else just downright pissed him off. "You always made it quite clear, Jan, that we were never an item." He slid off the bed and stood up... slowly, since his head started spinning. "So I didn't _decide _to date somebody else. You left me no choice."

Jan's brows raised with the realization that Michael was actually _mad _at her. The conversation had started downstairs as pleasant, a little awkward, to innuendo-loaded and dangerous once they'd come upstairs... now it had snow-balled into some sort of spat. What the hell was going on? "Michael--"

He whirled around to look at her, an offended expression on his face. "Because if the choice had been there, Jan, it would've been you. Always. Don't you get it?" He leaned close to her, his voice filled with conviction. "It's_ always been you._"

Jan was stunned speechless by this completely new side of Michael Scott she was seeing. Just when she thought he'd given her a glimpse into every facet of his personality...

"You invited us both to Casino Night," was the only intelligible thing she could come up with to say.

"I only invited you both because you had said no to begin with. I invited Carol. Then you said yes. What the hell was I supposed to do, Jan? Tell you not to come? I wanted to see you. I wanted you there."

Her heart skipped without her conscious consent. "And Carol?"

"Well..." He shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. "I'd already invited her. I couldn't _un_-invite her, Jan. That's just cruel. Especially when she had her hopes up about seeing me."

Jan rolled her eyes.

"I don't get why you even care, anyway," he went on, still standing over her near the foot of the bed, an aggressive kind of fire in his eyes. He planted his hands on his hips, and... was it odd that Jan had never been more turned on in her life? "You made it clear that there was nothing between us. You pushed me away, and pushed me away, and kissed me again, and pushed me away. As madly in love with you as I am, I'm not gonna wait around forever for you to make a decision."

Michael was pacing near the door now, and Jan half-feared his anger would cause him to storm out. "Michael..."

"So here we are again. I still want you, you don't want me but you're flirting with me and drinking with me and generally confusing the hell out of me, and I just... I can't--"

"Michael--" She jumped to her feet and started toward him.

"You know, I really don't get you. I just don't." His face twisted into a confused expression. "If you don't want me, why were you trying to make me jealous earlier? And I mean, with Josh of all people..."

Jan stepped up to him, swallowed her pride and inner objections, and tried to keep her voice level. "Michael?"

He lifted his eyes to hers. "Yeah."

Jan was left with no choice but to grab his face and kiss him. She felt the shock riddle his body, and his hands hung suspended in the air, as if wondering whether he could touch her or not. She wound her arms tight around his neck, pressed her body flush against his, and pinned him to the door.

Then his hands were everywhere -- her waist, her hips, her sides, her butt, her back -- anywhere he could reach, he touched. He kissed her back heatedly, aggressively, and swung them around to pin her against the wall. His voice came out a barely-coherent growl while he nipped at her neck... "Always you."

Jan wasn't sure if it was the influence of the alcohol or not, but the aggressive side of Michael was most definitely an erogenous zone in and of itself. "Yes," she breathed, tipping her head back to allow him more skin to kiss.

His fingers were surprisingly nimble, undoing the buttons of her silk shirt in a span of several seconds. He practically tore at it in his frenzy to get to her bare skin, and in that moment Jan couldn't have wanted him more.

Suddenly feeling aggressive herself, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and dragged him backwards with her, toward the bed. When he pulled away to grin, forehead touching hers, she grinned right back. She couldn't help it. Then he tackled her to the bed.

"Michael," the rational side of her started saying, as he rained kisses on her neck again. "We have to try to be quiet. Dwight's next door, and--"

He kissed her deeply and rolled her beneath him, stroking her side. "We'll be fine."

"Do you have a--"

"Tons. In my suitcase."

He started to pull back, and as their lips broke, Jan sat up with him. Her brow furrowed. "_Tons_? Wh--"

"I'll be right back! Stay there!" Michael rushed out of the room before she could properly question him.

Jan sighed, and threw a look toward her suitcase. She _could_ question why Michael packed tons of condoms if he was "dating" Carol, but... then she'd have to question why she packed what _she _had packed. And at the moment, it felt oddly good not to question things. So instead, she jumped off the bed, grabbed her suitcase, and rushed into the bathroom.

No sooner had she shut and locked the door when Michael returned, immediately calling out to her. "Jan? Jan, where'd you go?"

"I'm in here, Michael," she responded as she changed, able to envision the perplexed look on his face perfectly.

"Oh." She heard him step closer to the bathroom door and tap on it softly. Suddenly, his voice was tender with concern. "Are you okay? Was it all the drinks?"

Jan raised her eyebrows. No, she was still pleasantly fuzzy. "I'm fine, Michael. I'll be out in a minute. Why don't you wait for me on the bed."

"Okay, but... if you're not feeling well, then really--"

"Michael, get on the bed."

"Whoa. That was hot," she heard him murmur, then he said louder, "Yes ma'am!"

She suppressed the smile and turned her eyes to the bathroom mirror, smoothing her hands over the black silk that was now coccooning her form. If she questioned Michael bringing condoms, she'd have to question why the hell she brought this. And both questions more than likely had the same answer: wishful thinking. So instead of questioning it, she took one more look at herself and opened the bathroom door, leaning on the doorframe more out of necessity from the sudden dizziness than an attempt to be sexy.

Either way, it worked. Michael's eyes practically bugged out of his head, and he rose to his feet slowly. "Holy... jeez, Jan."

Jan just waited patiently, watched him approach, expecting the most outlandish of obnoxious comments. She quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, Michael?"

His eyes roamed her form and she couldn't deny the wave of heat that slid down her spine and gathered between her legs. When his eyes met hers again, he breathed out, "You're perfect."

Jan let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and stepped toward him, her heart beating double-time in her throat. Her stomach was fluttering and her head was spinning... although now, she wasn't so sure it was because of the alcohol. She was almost positive it was Michael's gaze that was doing this to her now. Upon reaching him, she placed her hands on his shoulders and walked him backwards toward the bed again, smiling when his hands found her hips.

When the backs of his calves bumped the mattress, Jan shoved gently on his shoulders and forced him to sit at the edge of the bed. He complied, eyes glued to her the entire time, and his hand reached out to stroke her hip again as she stepped between his legs. He was gazing up at her reverently as she trailed her hand up his left arm and across his shoulder, stepping out of her heels. Then, she moved to place one knee on the mattress beside him, and one between his legs, kneeling astride his left thigh. She raked her hands through his lush, dark hair and leaned down, capturing his lips in another fiery kiss.

Michael was an eager participant in no time, his hands sliding all over her silk nightie as their lips clung to each other. He laid back slowly, drawing her with him, and his hands swept back her hair as it fell forward. Jan went with his pull as the kiss deepened, sliding against his body and relishing in the way he bucked against her. She moved against him a little more and soon he broke the kiss, panting against her lips.

"Jan..."

She laid her finger against his lips. "Shh." Talking led to analyzing... and analysis of their current situation would inevitably lead to Jan realizing what a terrible mistake this was. And she didn't want this to be a mistake. She didn't want this to be some little affair while he was dating his real estate agent or a tawdry fling at a sales convention where she was the boss and he was the subordinate. She didn't want it to be a drunken mishap that would be regretted instantly in the light of a new day. No, she wanted tonight to be unbelievably, incomprehensibly right.

"Don't think, Michael," she told him.

"I'm not." He looked up at her with those big green eyes and yes, for tonight it was right. He chuckled. "I can't. You're laying on top of me. I can't think with a hot woman laying on top of me."

This time, Jan didn't suppress the smile. "Good." She kissed him again and couldn't resist letting her fingers travel once more through his hair. He really had incredible hair. She'd have to remember to tell him someday.

When she felt Michael start to bunch her nightie up in his hands, she broke away and sat on his stomach, reaching for the hem. His hands on hers stopped her.

"Wait."

She looked at him and for a moment was alarmed that he'd come to his senses. There was no time for sense tonight, and she wasn't beyond pushing him back down and having her way with him. She'd wanted this since Casino Night. Hell, maybe even since Chili's.

But when Michael sat up, he smiled reassuringly and kissed her sweetly, passionately. "I wanna do it," he told her softly, and started kissing across her jawline and down her neck.

Jan's eyes slipped closed, partly from relief and partly from Michael's ministrations, and she leaned into his kisses, her fingers blindly undoing the buttons of his god-awful Microsoft Hawaiian-print shirt. She shivered when his fingers tripped up her arm, and swallowed a moan when those fingers began slowly, torturously, sliding the spaghetti straps of her nightie off her shoulders. "Michael..."

"Patience," he whispered against her skin before he kissed the hollow of her shoulder, and continued slipping the straps down her arms. Soon the nightie was a puddle of black silk around her waist, and Michael had her on her back against the bed, his lips lavishing her torso with kisses.

His mouth slid down the center of her body, toward the inward slope of her stomach, and Jan arched into him. All the time she spent fantasizing about this she not once expected he'd be _this _good. Perhaps this was really, incomprehensibly right. Michael seemed to know her without really _knowing_ her. He knew just the right pace, the right spot to kiss at just the right time. Michael, unlike any other man in her life -- past, present, and probably future -- _got _her.

And that knowledge was currently driving her insane with desire. Policies and other girlfriends and common sense be damned. "Michael, I need you," she breathed, skin jumping when his tongue dipped into her navel.

"You've got me," he promised, and stripped himself quickly, grabbing for one of the many foil packets he'd brought over and tearing it open.

Jan closed her eyes, tried to even out her breathing as she felt him slither up beside her on the mattress, guiding her under the sheets and rolling above her. One of her hands grasped his shoulder and the other was on his back as he settled into the cradle of her hips, their eyes meeting as their bodies joined.

Her mouth dropped open on a gasp, but she couldn't tear her eyes from Michael's. He, too, seemed transfixed on her face, and for a moment neither of them moved. A sweet, aching pressure throbbed low in her belly and she rocked her hips against him, giving him permission to move. When he exhaled, it could have easily been a sigh of relief, and he leaned down to wrap her in his arms, their lips melding once again.

Wrong, dirty, tawdry... wasn't that how this was supposed to feel between her and Michael? Wasn't it only supposed to release the tension that had been between them for the last year? Instead it felt... wonderful. Passionate, sweet... and right. Familiar, in a way -- as if they'd been lovers ages ago.

Michael broke the kiss and his breath puffed against her lips, in time with her own labored breathing. She felt him smiling against her and it was impossible for her not to smile back.

Several hours and several empty condom wrappers later, they laid slumped together against the mattress, Jan half across Michael's chest with her ear resting over his heart. Michael, to say the least, was stunned. Or at least that's how he came off, considering every few minutes he would shake his head and spout off an, "I can't believe it."

Jan patted his chest. "We've already established that, Michael. Many times."

"That beat the crap outta Scrabble."

Jan couldn't help it. She started to laugh. And then Michael's chest started rumbling under her ear and he was laughing too. So they laid there, like two maniacs, holding each other while they laughed hysterically.

When they'd calmed down and Michael's chest was no longer vibrating with laughter under her ear, Jan just had to ask. "So who actually won?"

"Well, Jan, I'm pretty sure I came out on top."

She felt his ear-to-ear grin and lifted her head. "That's what he said."

Michael barked another incredulous laugh and swept his hand under her hair, kissing her thoroughly. He murmured against her lips, "What game should we play now?"

"The sleeping game sounds good." She kissed him deeply back and pulled away, stretching her sore muscles before allowing herself to snuggle against him again.

"The sleeping game, huh? Bet I could totally kick your ass at that."

"We'll just have to see, won't we?"

"Hey Jan?"

"Yes, Michael?"

"What happens tomorrow?"

She closed her eyes and curled more tightly against him. "It _is _tomorrow."

"I mean--"

"I know what you mean," she assured him softly, and leaned up briefly to kiss his lips again. "And let's not worry about it now."

"Okay."

"We have a game to play," she grinned.

Jan felt, without seeing, the wide grin on his face in response. "That's right. Ready, set, go!"

And the conventioneers slept.

* * *

FIN 


End file.
